The Keeper of the Door eBook

“But I don’t need to ask him, Max,”
she said. “I know that for myself.”

“Really?” said Max.

He stretched out his hand to her, without rising.
His manner had changed completely. It was no
longer passionate, but intensely quiet.

She came to him slowly, feeling compelled. She
laid her hand in his.

His eyes were still upon hers. “I can’t
marry you against your will, can I?” he said.
“It’s not done nowadays.”

She smiled a little. “I’m not afraid
of that.”

“Shall we go on being engaged, then,”
he said, “and see how we like it? We won’t
tell anyone yet—­if you’d rather not.”

She hesitated. “But—­if I go
to India with Nick?”

He frowned momentarily. “Well. I shouldn’t
ask you to marry me first.”

Olga’s face cleared somewhat. This was
reassuring. It might very well lead to nothing
after all.

“But,” said Max impressively, “you
wouldn’t get engaged to any other fellow without
letting me know.”

She laughed at that. “I certainly shan’t
marry anyone out there.”

Max looked grim. “You will give me the
first refusal in any case?”

“But I needn’t promise anything?”
she said quickly.

“No, you needn’t make any promise.
Just bear me in mind, that’s all; though I don’t
suppose for a moment that you could forget me if you
tried,” said Max with the utmost calmness.

“Why do you say that?” said Olga rather
breathlessly.

It suddenly seemed to her that she had gone a little
further than she had intended. She made an instinctive
effort to get back while the way remained open.

But she was too late. She felt his hand tighten.
For a moment she caught that gleam in his eyes which
always disconcerted her.

And then it was gone, even as his hand released hers.
He turned back to the writing-table with his supercilious
smile.

“Because, fair lady,” he said, “you
have met your fate. If Hunt-Goring pesters you
any further, of course you will let me know. Hadn’t
you better go now? The little god in the shrine
will be jealous. And I have work to do.”

And Olga went, somewhat precipitately, her heart throbbing
in such a clamour of confused emotions that she hardly
knew what had happened or even if she had any real
cause for distress.

CHAPTER XIV

THE DARK HOUR

He had not made love to her! That was the thought
uppermost in Olga’s mind when the wild tumult
of her spirit gradually subsided. He had not
so much as touched upon his own feelings at all.
Not the smallest reason had he given her for imagining
that he cared for her, and very curiously this fact
inclined her towards him more than anything else.
Had he proposed to her in any more ardent fashion,
she would have been scared away. Possibly he
had fathomed this, and again possibly he had not wanted
to be ardent. He was hard-headed, practical, in
all he did. She was sure that his profession
came first with him. He probably thought that
a wife would be a useful accessory, and he was kind-hearted
enough to be willing to do her a good turn at the
same time that he provided for his own wants.